Mαɾɠαҽɾყ Tყɾҽʅʅ (
thekittenqueen) wrote in
sixthiterationlogs2018-06-13 06:50 pm
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"You're father was an honorable man"
WHO: Margaery Tyrell
WHERE: Robb's House
WHEN: 6/13
OPEN TO: Robb Stark
WARNINGS: Brooding Stark talk
WHERE: Robb's House
WHEN: 6/13
OPEN TO: Robb Stark
WARNINGS: Brooding Stark talk
As had happened for her, not long after Robb returned to the village after the Observers' games, his father had been pulled away. She knew the loss would be painful for him, but it was soon compounded by Sansa's disappearance as well. The house Robb occupied was no empty and there was only one sibling left to him in the village. There was a darkness now that she had come to recognize from his family, though she had only seen it in Sansa before coming here. It was loss as long and harsh as winter.
It was only a matter of time before it came for them here as well.
It was hard to say whether or not Robb was looking after himself properly. She didn't press him to stay with her at night, wishing to give him space if he wanted it. But after a day of not seeing him, she went to the Stark home and found him there. There weren't any signs of activity in the kitchen, as she suspected, so she worked to make something for him out of the leftover rabbit she had. It wouldn't be her finest meal, but it would be enough to sustain him.
When it was finished, she brought it to Robb and sat beside him. "Have you slept?"
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"As much as could be expected," he answered around bites, which was to say very little at all. He paused, licking at his lips, and slid a worn glance Margaery's way.
"You ought to stay here," he began, and then halted, reconsidering his phrasing. "Would you stay here? I don't like the idea of you all alone... and I'd like to have you here with me."
She valued her independence, that Robb knew quite well, but she too had lost someone, even if they hadn't precisely been family. Claire had been her friend, Sansa as well, and she'd been very fond of his father.
"It needn't be permanent."
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She brushed a curl away from Robb's eyes, letting out a soft sigh. "If I were to move, I would be surrendering the house I claimed. If I do that, I would prefer that it be permanent. We have been living together in all but name as it is." It wasn't as though she were attached to her bungalow. It wasn't Highgarden, it could be given to someone else.
"I would need to find a way to move my garden."
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But his father was gone now, and it all suddenly felt entirely silly.
"We can talk to Mark, he may know a way" Robb said now, and set his bowl aside to clasp Margaery's hands in both of his own. "Live here with me. I don't want to continue on as if being together is a shameful secret."
He'd not ask her to marry him, not again, and she knew well enough why. They both had their difficulties and superstitions with that particular institution. But here, it didn't matter if they'd said a vow. That they were devoted to one another was enough.
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She smiled softly, pressing a kiss to his hands. "Of course I will." Whatever she might fret over, her feelings for Robb outweighed them. It didn't matter if they were married or not, so long as they spent their lives together, it was all she could want. "My only concerns are small details. My garden, moving my loom and butter churn. We will have to build a fence to keep my garden protected." But they were small matters that could be solved easily.
She smiled, the idea that they were living as though it were a secret to be embarrassed by amused her. She hadn't gone out of her way to hide anything, only to remain circumspect around Lord Stark. "I have spent so long being afraid of what happened in the past, but I think it's this world that's more pressing. With everyone disappearing, I don't want to be held back by my superstitions. I want to live completely and without restraint when it comes to us. If something happens, I don't want to have regrets."
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"And..." Robb took a deep breath, looking down to their hands. "Perhaps it's a fool's hope, but Arya returned once. We might see our family yet again. I cannot let my life be dictated by sorrow and regret any longer, Margaery."
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"I don't know if they will come through the fountain again or if it will be someone else. I know that we have lived so long in the past, whether we meant to or not. We think about what happened rather than what will happen. We have both been here nearly two years. Let's mark it by letting go of Westeros and everything else. I don't want one foot in our world and one here. I want to be happy."
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If they returned, they returned. Perhaps they would stay here with them here a month or a year or longer, but those left perpetually behind — Margaery, Jon, himself — could not carry the burden of waiting to see what came to pass. All that remained to them in this new life would be wasted with it.
Robb pulled Margaery close, cheek pressed to her hair. He'd been afraid the motion might draw up emotion lurking beneath the surface, but he did not weep. There was sorrow, yes, but he felt steady with her pressed against him.
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"We move forward," she said as much for herself as she did for him. "I'll speak with Mark soon about moving my garden. You will have to build a fence and help me move my things." This gave them something to focus on, something to keep them busy as they adjusted to this new state of being.
"Have you considered asking Jon to live closer as well?"
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And that, of course, came with its own considerations. He and Lyanna had been getting on a sight better than they had at the start, but could they two live in harmony in such a small space? Perhaps the only way to know was to try it and see.
"I'd thought of it, but... I don't know how well it would go over, coming from me. Like I'm trying to take Father's place and tell them what they ought to do."
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Everything was different now. There wasn't a point for the old squabbles. So long as they were the only ones remaining, they should band together. No one else would understand what they endured and the world they left behind. An ally was more important than old grudges.
"I don't think Jon or Lyanna would look at it that way, Robb. You have suffered the same loss. Tell him what you have said to me, that you want to make the most of this world with your family close."
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He heaved a sigh and pushed a hand through his hair. It was getting long and would need to be trimmed again soon lest he start being mistaken for Jon. "But you are right," he allowed. "I'll need to speak with them both, I suppose." He had hoped perhaps Margaery might volunteer for him, but he could see clearly now this duty was his own. Not to mention that she'd have her hands full enough with the business of moving house.
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She pressed a kiss to his brow, offering a small smile. "Whatever they decide, we will still be here together." They wouldn't be alone. She grinned, hoping to offer him a bit of amusement and lightness against the backdrop of pain and sorrow. "It isn't as though you are asking them to marry you."